“The word itself has another color. It’s not a word with any resonance, although the “e” was once pronounced. There is only the bump now between “b” and “l”, the relief at the end, the “whew”. It hasn’t the sly turn which crimson takes halfway through, yellow’s deceptive jelly, or the rolled-down sound in brown. It hasn’t violet’s rapid sexual shudder or like a rough road the irregularity of ultramarine, the low puddle in mauve like a pancake covered in cream, the disapproving purse to pink, the assertive brevity of red, the whine of green.” – William H Gass
I’ve injected new life into our old patio furniture, painting it shades of blue,
to echo the summertime hues of the sky and sea in this beautiful world we live in.
There is something meditative and restful about painting, putting the brain into neutral, loading the brush with paint and smoothing it onto the wood, stroke after creamy stroke.
The end result is very satisfying too, a happy transformation without too much effort or cash expended. Let it be said though that sanding the wood beforehand and washing the brushes in between is not so satisfying. That’s where Mr T comes in, we have an agreement, he handles the sanding and brush cleaning and I do the painting. It works for us.
I have two more chairs to do but we’ve been blessed with relentless rain this last week so I’ll have to wait till everything dries out a bit and the humidity drops before I can complete the job but in the meantime we’ve got enough seating for sun-downers in the early evening and that’s good enough for me.
At last! The sun is out, I feel a braai/barbecue coming on! Patchouli too, is thrilled that the rain has finally stopped because the deck is her most favourite spot to languish on.
All my love